


And To All A Good Night

by alxndr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Bipolar Disorder, Christmas, Dyscalculia, F/M, Full Moon, Learning Disabilities, M/M, Multi, Music, Song - Freeform, Traditions, Wales, Werewolf, lycanthropy, welsh - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3071570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alxndr/pseuds/alxndr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their last Christmas as Hogwarts' students isn't going to go exactly how they'd hoped at all.  There's a furry little problem that's getting in the way.</p><p>Based upon the actual Full Moon of December 1977.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And To All A Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> This got a little bit out of hand. It would have probably been better if it hadn't, but it has, so read it. Or not. Probably the latter.  
> I'm yet to have the chance to go through and proof read it all, I just wanted it to be up before the New Year and the festive season ends completely.
> 
> 19/04/2015: I just happened to stumble across [wolfstarwarehouse](http://wolfstarwarehouse.tumblr.com/post/116690632466/i-just-read-one-of-the-best-wolfstar-fics-in-a) on tumblr and happened to see that someone had submitted to recommend this fic there! I'm literally blown away and gobsmacked, I couldn't believe that it was mine until I checked.

_There are faces there that only come out at night,_  
_There are places there looking for a fight.  
___\- Mark Chadwick

**-o0o-**

* * *

Moments after Remus excused himself to the toilet, Sirius turned to James, looking up from his parchment like he'd swallowed a particularly unsavoury Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean.  He opened his mouth, then swallowed and tried again, his voice coming out hoarse.  “James... Have you looked at the lunar calendar lately?”

James frowned.  It wasn't normal for Sirius to be calling him by his real name, especially not in that tone, unless he was being serious, and none of the Marauder's liked it when there was something serious to be said about the moon.  “Of course I have.  What's wrong?”

Sirius ran a shaky hand through his long black hair.  “Can you just check this... I think I... Fuck I don't _want_ to be reading it right.”

With a slow nod, the stocky boy got to his feet, careful not to make a sound in the hushed library, and crossed to look at the parchment, a hand resting on the back of Sirius'schair as he leaned in.  As his gaze focussed on the point where Sirius's finger was pointing, his breath caught, and his stomach lurched as comprehension settled in.  They both felt the air in the library go colder than usual.

“Pads,”  He whispered hoarsely, throat suddenly very dry.  “That's the twenty-fifth.  That's Christmas Day.”

“I thought so."  Sirius murmured weakly, turning to look at his friend with eyes full of the sorrow that he reserved for Remus and his all too many hardships.  “We have to do something.”

Concern crossed James's face.  Sirius was a man of volatile emotion at the best of times, but where Remus was concerned his moods were mercurial.  Never more had he cared about someone more fiercely, fought to protect him so strongly, or crashed so deeply when they hurt.  Even then there was often no rhyme or reason to his moods.  The full moons were a prime example, some months he would plummet into despair at the hopelessness of the situation and spend barely any time in his human form, but other months he would redouble his efforts to make Remus smile and become the best prankster in the whole of Hogwarts' history.  In this situation though, James couldn't help but feel himself suffocating in the same unfairness that Sirius was.

For Sirius's sake, James tried to arrange his face into his reassuring Head Boy smile, but it appeared as a grimace instead, and he ended up trying to hide it with a rub of his embarrassingly stubble free jawline.  “We'll work something out, we always do.”

With an unconvincing nod, Sirius looked back down at his parchment, his chest hurting.  There was nothing more that he hated in the world than the way a rock miles away in the sky had control over his partner's life, made him sick, injured, a leper to society, and worst of all, make _Remus_ believe he wasn't worthy of even the smallest kindness.  Remus of all people, the one that everyone actually wanted to be kind to.  His mind drifted entirely off the work in front of him, consumed by images of Remus tearing himself to shreds whilst the rest of the country was merrily singing carols, playing gobstones, exploding snap, chess, and eating turkey.  The quill next to him lay untouched for the rest of the evening.

When Remus returned he immediately saw Sirius's sullen mood, and laid reassuring touches onto his arm, trying to coax him into talking, but got no where.  Catching James's eye, he sent a questioning look, but James could do nothing but shrug, not knowing what to say or do.  Not long later Sirius stood up from his seat, piling his belongings into his bag.

“I'm heading back to the dormitory.”

“Are you okay?  Do you want me to come with you?”  Remus asked quickly, getting ready to get to his own feet.

“I'm fine, just a bit of a headache that's all.  I'm going to try and get some rest before Pete comes back with regaling tales of Florence and the back of Greenhouse Three again.”

His words didn't seem to entirely placate Remus, but he relaxed slightly anyway.  “If you're sure?”

“I'll be fine.”  said Sirius, bending to plant a kiss on Remus' forehead, making a soft smile appear on his thin lips.  “I'll see you later.”

With Sirius gone, the remaining two boys sat in slightly tense silence for a while.  James was mulling the situation over in his head.  He could tell that Sirius wasn't taking his discovery well at all, but didn't know what he could do or say to cheer him up, there was nothing they could do to change the phases of the unforgiving moon.  And then there was Remus and his family, who must be feeling the worst about it of all of them.  Eventually he dared to broach the subject.

“Are you staying for the hols this year?”  James feigned innocence.

With a jerk, Remus looked up, suddenly flustered.  His mind span into overdrive, panicking whether they had already worked out what date the full moon fell on this December.  There was no doubt that the other boys would work it out eventually, but he didn't want them to work it out until it was too late and he was safely on his way home.  They would only worry about him, and waste their Christmas worrying about him; he felt sorry enough for himself for all of them.  When he was nine the full moon had fallen two days before Christmas and he'd still felt weak and spent most of the day curled up on the sofa under a blanket, only managing to pick at his dinner, but at least he'd been awake for most of it.  This Christmas the moon would rise at half past four, and not set again until late morning on Boxing Day.  He'd probably be knocked out all of Christmas with the nausea and headache.

The last thing he wanted was everyone to be looking after him all Christmas, and he knew that's exactly what they would want to do if he was there.  If he was home then he'd be out of sight and out of mind, or his friend's mind at least.  His father would be drunk regardless, and his mother in tears but thankful he was there to keep an eye on in the morning.  It didn't make all that much difference for the wolf, without his four legged friends to keep him company one enclosure was much the same as another.

“Ah, I... I'm not sure actually.”

“Oh.  Me and Sirius are planning to stay, I'm not sure about Pete.  You'll not be alone if you stayed, and I think Sirius would like you here.”  James hinted subtly.

Remus fiddled with his quill in his typical gangly awkward way, avoiding making eye contact with the brown eyes across the table.  “I think my parents want to see me this year, I didn't go back last year after all.”

* * *

James climbed the stairs to his dormitory with his bag heavy over his shoulder, and the weight of the full moon hanging even heavier around his neck.  He stifled a yawn, feeling the drain of their final NEWT year on him already, and then felt guilty for wishing that this term would hurry up and finish.  The sooner that the term finished the sooner Remus would be heading back home, and would end up spending his transformation alone, without Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail to try and keep him safe.  His parents would be there to look after him, but there would be nothing that they could do to keep him from hurting himself whilst the wolf took control.

He swung open the door, only to be assaulted by the sound of Remus's gramophone playing one of the most depressing records that James had ever come across.  A frown covered his face and his hand twitched for the Map in his pocket, knowing that there was no way Remus could have beaten him back up there, he'd headed off to do some of the rounds for Greta Catchlove.  Stepping further into the room he noticed that the curtains to Remus's bed were pulled shut, and Sirius's bed was empty.  With a suspicion that it was Sirius behind the curtains, he crossed the room towards the four-poster.

It was in the moment that he was about to draw the curtains back that James noticed the lyrics which were coming out of the gramophone.

_You can say the sun is shining if you really want to,_

_I can see the moon and it seems so clear._

His stomach twisted uncomfortably inside of his torso as the words and all their connotations swum around in his head.  Silently he pulled back the curtains, revealing the large black dog that was hunkered down with his snout tucked between his paws and the pillow, tail buried far between his back legs.  A lump formed in his throat at the sight of his best friend and brother so visibly miserable.  Carefully he took a perch on the edge of the bed, but the dog didn't as much as raise an eyebrow, just continued whimpering softly.

“C'mon Pads, talk to me,”  pleaded James, laying a hand on the back of his head.

Slowly, with a head full of lead, Sirius turned to look at him, black eyes full of hurt.  After several moments he flowed back into human form, and sat curled in on himself.  James leaned over and lifted the needle up on the gramophone, and Sirius felt like telling him to leave it alone and let him wallow in his misery, but in the end said nothing.

“We can make a plan, we can do something for him.”

“What can we do?  We can't change the moon.”  Sirius's voice was flat and monotone.

“I dunno yet, but we'll find something.  If anyone can, we can.”

“I just wanted this year to be special for him.”

“I know.  It's our last year at Hogwarts and—“

Sirius cut through him.  “It would have been our first Christmas together.”

“We could have our own Christmas before.”  James countered, slightly thrown at Sirius's frankness.  The two boys normally didn't have any problem showing their affection to each other in front of others, but talking about it was a different matter.  Sirius still feared that it would become all too much for James to have two of this best friends in a relationship with each other, and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardise his second chance at having a family.

With a sigh, Sirius rocked backwards, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a battered packed of Marlboro reds.  He plucked one from the carton with his teeth, and struck a match to light it, inhaling and exhaling deeply, a cloud of smoke forming around him. “Did he ever tell you when he was bitten?”

James shook his head.  “I just know he was young.”

Sirius continued concentrating on his cigarette, the memory of Remus telling him about what had happened one night as Sirius traced the scars on his body with a light touch flooding his memory.  He'd started talking about his father, and how he had been headhunted by the Ministry for an important position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the beginning of Voldemort's rise to power.  Sirius hadn't had a clue where the story was heading until he started to talk about a committee on the trial of the murder of two Muggle children, by a suspected rogue werewolf.  It unfolded that Lyall Lupin had been the only one who disbelieved his story of being a homeless muggle, and lost his temper, declaring that all werewolves were evil and should be murdered.  The next day the Lupin's picnic in the forest had ended in bloodshed.

“He was three years old.  It was his third birthday.”  Sirius said finally, staring down at yellowish smoke curling around his fingers.  “The tenth of March, nineteen-sixty-three.  He was on a picnic with his family.  I want every special day to be extra special for him from now on. But it's only getting worse out there, and we can't hide behind Dumbledore forever.  Who knows whether we'll ever get another chance for that to happen.”

James didn't have the heart to tell him that Remus was planning to go home when the holidays started the next week.

* * *

There was a light touch of frost on the ground as Remus pulled his scarf tight around his neck, but the weather was pleasantly mild compared to last winter.  He was taking his usual morning walk down by the Great Lake, enjoying the peace and quiet whilst the majority of the castle was still asleep, definitely including his three roommates.  Peter had been wiffling softly, his arms wrapped around the puffskein, James had been sprawled across the bed, his legs as good as hanging off the side, and Sirius had been curled up at the bottom of Remus's own bed.  Apart from being unable to stretch his legs out fully it had been nice to feel his warmth on his feet, but Remus had never been one for lounging around in bed, and would rather be breathing deep lungfuls of the crisp air, and watching the occasional robin flit from tree to tree.

Remus couldn't help but wonder what had been wrong with Sirius last night.  He was as used to any as Sirius's mood swings, but last night had been unusual.  Normally Sirius was more than willing to talk to him about whatever had been bothering him—James had cured him of his Black family haughtiness within the first six months and now he couldn't be shut up—but last night he'd just wanted to lay at the bottom of the bed, even once everyone else was fast asleep and they were left alone.  He couldn't help but wonder what had upset him, because something clearly had, but for the life of him he couldn't think what.  Remus didn't think he'd done anything during their study session, and if it had been the work then Sirius would never have hesitated in pestering him for help.

The scent in the air changed from clean and crisp into the faint smell of burning tobacco.  Remus sniffed.  And then turned around with a broad smile on his face.  Standing behind him, wearing clothes severely lacking for the weather, was Sirius.

“Hey Moony.”  He murmured, the smile matched on his face as he walked forward to take Remus in his arms.

“What are you doing out here?”  Remus protested, as he leaned in for a kiss.  “You'll catch your death of cold in that thin jacket!”

The shorter man just shrugged.  “I woke up and you were gone.  I missed you.”

“And I miss you too you daft bugger, doesn't mean you have to freeze yourself to come and find me though!”

“You're not hard to find.”  Sirius laughed, pulling a large folded piece of parchment out of his pocket.  “I'm a bona fide Marauder.”

Remus just laughed, reaching into Sirius's pocket to steal his packet of fags.  He plucked one, and lit the tip with his wand.  Sirius scowled, snatching the packet back.

“If you're going to steal my fags at least light them properly.”  He shook the box of matches in his face.

Remus rolled his eyes, and looped his arm around the black haired boy.  They walked together until they came to the edge of the lake, where they took a seat on one of the rocks and lit a small fire beside them to keep warm, gazing out over the water.  It rippled in places where the creatures that lived there neared the surface, before diving back down into the depths and allowing the water to still again except for the fluttering of the breeze over the top.  The smoke from their cigarettes drifted lazily away from them.

He turned to ask Sirius what was wrong, but as he turned he saw Sirius's mouth open, and the words that he had dreaded voluntarily come out.

“I know the full moon's on Christmas this year.”

In an instant, Remus' face clouded over, and he pulled away from Sirius, turning to stare blankly out over the lake.  He didn't speak for a long time and when he did his voice was flat and hoarse.  “And?  It doesn't matter, just forget about it.”

“Of course it bloody well matters!  It's Christmas, and you're our friend.”  The black haired boy said incredulously, his fag forgotten in his hand.

“I didn't want you to realise.”

“Why didn't you want to tell us Remus?”  Sirius asked, eyes pleasing, begging, puppish.  His hand twitching to reach out to him, knowing that his words weren't enough, but it might not be welcome.  “Haven't you realised that we just want to look after you?  You're our friend.  More than my friend.”

“That's just the thing!”  Spittle flew from his mouth in frustration, his hands clenching and unclenching with too mch of the emotion.  They wandered in the air, energy escaping him as he tried to control himself.  “That's just the bloody thing!”

Sirius watched him, his brow furrowed.   For all his love of the man there were plenty of times that he made as much sense as a drunken gnome, and this was certainly one of those times.  All they'd done for Remus and he still couldn't understand that they just wanted to carry on helping him, and  all the more reason to in the festive period.  “Moony, love, I don't understand.”

With a sigh Remus looked up, seeing Sirius anew, and the calm washed over him.  He took Sirius's hands in his own, calming him as well with the touch.  “You do enough to help me, more than enough.  I couldn't have asked for anything more, and I want you all to have some time to yourself.  It's Christmas, you shouldn't be spending it with a dark creature trying to r-rip you—”

Suddenly there were lips pressed to his, words lost in a muffle, a smother of love, and hands gently working their way around hair, both fair and dark.  Just two bodies collapsing into each other with love and relief and warmth, held up by only the other.  Sirius buried his face in the crook of Remus's next as he did the same.

“Don't ever say that.”

“I'm sorry.”

They both spoke at the same time, but it didn't matter.  They each knew what they were going to say before they opened their mouths.  After a while Sirius spoke again, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Even if you don't let James and Peter spend Christmas with you, will you at least let me spend it with my boyfriend?”

At the last word a soppy smile took control of the boyfriend in question's lips.  “If you insist.  I know I've not really got a choice anyway...”

“Nope.”

With an even bigger grin, a big black dog replaced Sirius, bright pink tongue lolling out of its mouth.  The dog woofed excitedly, his tail whipping back and forth uncontrollably as he licked Remus's face, and then bounded away as the lanky boy dropped his book and dashed after him.

“Padfooooot!  You arse!”  He yelled, following it up with words that even Sirius was surprised to hear.

* * *

With Remus safely out of the way, the remaining three boys all crowded around James’s bed, James sitting near the head, Peter on the chair at the desk, and Sirius sat at the bottom of the bed, the Marauder’s map lying in front of him, eyes focussed on the dot labelled “R. J. Lupin.”

James cleared his throat, brushing a hand through the mess of hair on top of his head.  “So, we need ideas for what we can do about Remus’s festive furriness.  What do we know already?”

Picking up a piece of parchment, Peter began to summarise.  “He’s going home for the holidays, there’s nothing we can do to make him stay here now.  The moon will be up from four until late morning the next day.  He found out that we know about the full moon but brushes off any display of concern about it.  He says he doesn’t care, but we all know that Christmas is one of his favourite times of the year.”

“Could he come to ours, Prongs?”  Sirius suggested.

James shook his head.  It was a thought that he’d entertained, but he knew that it wouldn’t work.  Remus would never consider putting his family at risk by staying somewhere where the protections against the wolf were a mystery, and in any case, his family and the ministry would never agree to it.  He doubted that the application would even be looked at this time of the year, and the penalty for him being elsewhere was dire.  “Where would we put him?  His family would never agree to it anyway.”

“We could go to his; he said that the basement they’ve got is pretty big.”

This time it was Sirius who shook his head.  “His family would notice that we’d not come back up before moonrise.”

“What about in our animagus forms?”

James snorted.  “They’re going to think they’ve gone loopy if a rat, dog and stag come marching into their kitchen.  I’d like to see you try and get my antlers down a trapdoor!”

Peter giggled at the image, and then blushed at the realisation of how ridiculous his suggestion was.  His face settled in to serious furrows.  “I could go down there at least.”

“I’m not leaving him.”  Sirius said bluntly, lifting his eyes from the map for the first time.  “I’m not letting him spend Christmas alone.”

“But he’d be with me.”

“You’re not me.  I’m not doing it.  I’m not letting that happen.”  He snapped fiercely, his shoulders rolling forward like the hackles of his alter-ego.  He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, they needed to think this through for Moony’s sake.

It wasn’t anything against Pete, but Sirius felt it was something that he should do himself.  He could see the hurt in Remus’s eyes every time Christmas was mentioned around him, and he couldn’t bear for him to spend it alone.  There was only so much that Wormtail could do to keep the wolf distracted from its hunger anyway, a rat was a mere annoyance to hungry werewolf.  Sirius prided himself for being the best at keeping Remus busy, Prongs wasn’t too shabby either, but his antlers could cause more harm than good sometimes.

“The only place is here.”

“How are we going to get him here?  It’ll be way too close to the full moon for him to apparate, and we all know that he can’t fly for toffee.”

“Knight bus?”

“Hippogriff?”

“Muggle train?”

Sirius sighed that their suggestions.   He wondered sometimes whether they remembered that Remus felt violently nauseous the day before the full moon, and that travel was much more difficult considering his inability to apparate as easily as the rest of them.  He could apparate, but the pull of the wolf hidden in his brain and blood made every apparition feel like he was dragging an unwilling side-along passenger with him, increasing his chances of getting splinched dramatically, especially near the moon.  It was extra dangerous for him to get splinched within a few days of the full moon as well, he wouldn’t be able to get medical attention for fear being stuck in St Mungos and ending up transforming in front of healers or other patients.

“It won’t work.  Nothing’s going to work,” He scratched at his left hand, irritated.  “A train takes too long and he’d throw up all over the Knight bus.”

All three boys sat in silence, knowing that Sirius was right, but were running out of suggestions.  Eventually Peter perked up.  “Portkey.”

They all ran the suggestion through their minds, thinking of any possible issue which would throw a caber in the works.  The portkey would have to be made without permission being granted by the ministry, but the ministry couldn’t detect them, and it was a mute issue for a band of teenage illegal animagi.  Remus would probably get hideously and violently portkey-sick, but they could try and get him to take an anti-nausea beforehand.  At least portkey’s didn’t carry the same risk of splinching that apparition did as long as he hung on tight to the object.

James grinned.  “I think that might just work…”

* * *

Underneath the paper was a smart new copy of one of Remus’ favourite books, bound in deep emerald leather embossed with golden letters.  Sirius peeked inside the book, taking care not to crack the spine as he did so.  He’d never understood the fascination that some people harboured in books until he started spending time alone with Remus, the words had always swum in front of his eyes, twisted round, simply getting clogged up in his brain.  But the wonderful Remus had procured some coloured sheets of plastic from somewhere which helped a bit, and then some evenings Remus would read bits of his books aloud to him, introducing him to a whole new world.  The first book he had read to him was a copy of the one he held in his hands.

Sirius carefully wrapped it in vibrant red and gold paper, and then turned his attention to the parchment next to the parcel.  He read the words that he'd etched onto them with painstaking care, making sure that they said exactly what he wanted them to say, no word of a lie, but no word too little.  Finally satisfied he folded the parchment, and tucked it neatly into the crimson envelope.  He left it unsealed for later, and tucked it beneath his bed, along with the roll of Spellotape.

Next on his agenda was to prepare the portkey, and for that he would need someone more gifted than he in the Charms department.  They just might be slightly less willing to bend the rules, but Padfoot had sworn one night with James—admittedly encouraged by firewhiskey—that he'd make her an honorary member of the Marauder's before they left the school.

The key bit was getting the arithmetic right though, it was crucial to the whole thing.  So he got up from his bed, borrowed Remus's lunar charts, and laid them out on his bed, running the dates and times over in his head.  Moon rise was about twenty minutes different in Wales than it was in Scotland, it wouldn't do to get it the wrong way around, or for Remus to be transforming whilst falling from the portkey and risk breaking the portkey.  No, the time had to be just right.

* * *

 

“Lily, Lily, wonderful Lily!”  Sirius called, spotting her auburn head and bounding across the courtyard towards her.  “The most wondrous charms-tress in the whole of Hogwarts.”

She turned, a teasing grin on her face.  “You've been living way too long with James, that's exactly how he sounded the last three years.”

Sirius couldn't help but laugh, remembering James' many futile attempts at getting Lily to think of him as anything more than an irritating pureblood prat.  Finally it had come to fruition over the last few months, and Sirius was glad that he no longer had to put up with James pining over her whenever she cast so much as a glance in Snivellius's direction.  Of course, Snivellius was more interested in the Dark Arts than childhood friends these days...  Sirius shook the thoughts out of his head, for now he had more festive tasks to complete.

“I'll shut up if you do me a favour.”

“Nope, still sounding like him.”

“Please, Lily.  It's for Remus.  For Christmas”

He knew that 'Remus' would be the key word to getting her to help, even if it wasn't strictly something the Head Girl should be encouraging.  Somehow Remus had managed to befriend her within their first year, something none of the other Marauders had managed, no matter how hard they'd tried.  Lily nodded slowly, just like he knew she would, and Sirius carefully steered her away from anyone who might be listening.

“The thing is... it's not entirely allowed.  Well, it's not allowed at all really.  It's for Remus and me, and I know you'll be better than me or James or Pete.”  He tried to think how to get her to agree, flattery was always a good option.  “You're the best at Charms see, you've always been the best—”

“What is it you want?”  Her mouth twitched, knowing she was more interested than the ought to be, not even a term into being Head Girl and already one of the self-professed Marauders were leading her astray.  “It had better not be to do with Sev—”

“No, nothing like that.  We wanted you to make a portkey...”

Suddenly she stopped walking, and turned to him, fixing his grey eyes with her green ones. “You want me to make a portkey.”  She repeated, incredulously.

A blush started to creep up Sirius's neck from underneath his scarf.  He wished that he'd let James do this bit, he was her girlfriend after all, but he'd wanted to arrange it on his own, as his gift to Remus.  Only, he wasn't very good at making things not seem incredibly reckless, it was just expected of him.  “Well, yeah.  From Remus's house to here on Christmas.”

“Why in all of Merlin's underpants would he want to be here for Christmas?”

In a cryptic whisper Sirius explained.  “There's a bit of a furry little problem going on that day.  We thought a noble dog, gallant stag and erm... royal rat... might be good for him.”

Comprehension slowly dawned on Lily's face, and a mittened hand rose to cover her mouth.  A sad gasp escaped from her lips.  She realised why Remus would want to be here, and what Sirius was offering him by arranging for this to happen.  Not only was he trying to make Remus's life as painfree as possible, despite the trouble that he would have to go to in order to ensure that it would happen, he was also giving up his own Christmas.  For so many years Sirius hadn't had a family that would give him a proper Christmas, and now he was sacrificing another one for Remus.  She would have said to herself that she'd make sure Remus understood, but she knew he wouldn't need reminding.

“Oh Remus...”  She started, and then swallowed it.  He never appreciated pity.  “Yes, of course I'll do it.”

Relief washed away the tension in the boy's body, and his brow smoothed.  He held out his hand to Lily, and gave her a leather plaited bracelet.  “If you could charm this for me.  A _portus chronos_ should do it, for four seventeen.  PM that is.”

Another wave of cold washed over Lily as she realised how early that was, and her hand tightened around the bracelet.  “Where to?”

“The edge of the forbidden forest should do it, near the willow.”

“Four seventeen, near the willow.  I'll get it back to you before the end of the day.”  She said, tucking it tight into her pocket.  “You're good for each other, you two.”

Yet again, the blood rushed to Sirius's face.  He stared down at his feet, and shuffled them awkwardly, trying to pass it off as stamping out the chill.  “Thanks.  I'd best head off before they wonder where I've got to.  It's getting cold out.”  Sirius said, beginning to walk off.  Then he stopped and turned, “Oh, and can you not mention this to him?  Not just yet anyway.”

She nodded, and began to walk in the opposite direction, her thoughts on the two boys, wondering if there was anything more that she could do to help, but grateful that they'd turned to her.  She just hoped her work would live up to their expectations.  For Remus's sake too, he deserved every bit of good luck that he could get.

* * *

 

“Hey James.”  Lily said, sliding on the bench next to him in the library, where he sat, head in his hand as he stared at the dusty tome in front of him.

As he looked up a smile twitched at the corner of his lips.  The concept of being James Potter, boyfriend of Lily Evans, was still utterly bewildering, he'd just about managed to get his head around, James “no-longer-thought-of-as-a-total-tosser-by-the-amazing-Lily-Evans” Potter.  Not having to vie with Snivellius for her attention was a novelty as well, although of course he wouldn't ever admit that's what he was actually doing all these years.  “Hey Lils, how's it going?  Must be the first time I've beaten you here in a free.”

“Not too bad, I've just been doing something for Sirius, d'you mind giving it back to him?”  She dug in her pocket and pulled out a small package.

James took it off her, looking puzzled.  “This is for Sirius?”

“Yeah, he asked me to charm it for Remus's Christmas.”

“Oh... that.”  James said, tucking it carefully into his pocket, making a note not to lose it, and to remember to take it out of his cloak before throwing it in the laundry.  It wouldn't be good for anyone if it was in someone else's hands at the wrong time.  “Speaking of Christmas, what're your plans?”

Lily shrugged, lumping her books out on the table.  “Just some family thing.  It should be better than last year, Petunia's barely spoken a word to me since she's been with that Vernon guy, but they're having dinner in their nice little suburban house, so I'll just have to keep the whole “hocuspocus” thing quiet for a few hours.”

“She's still being weird about it?”  James said, careful not to say too much disparaging.  As much as he couldn't understand, and disliked the way her sister treated her, they were still family, and Lily still cared about her.

“Yup.  It's only getting worse the more she's around Vernon.  And now they're married...  I didn't even think she liked him that much.”  She sighed.  “I know she never got over being a muggle, but she never used to hate me for it this much as long as I didn't do magic in front of her.”

James couldn't help himself, he snorted.  “No wonder she moved out and got married, you've been charming things for your mother ever since January.”

Lily laughed, “She likes it, says I'm finally useful around the house.  What about you?  Are you joining Sirius for Christmas?”

Laying down his quill, he turned to her, and paused before speaking.“I'm not sure.  I want to do my bit obviously, but I get the feeling that he wants it to be just the two of them, even if he doesn't really know that himself yet.  He practically snapped Pete's head off when he suggested being the one to be with him.”

“I think maybe let them do their thing.  They're still working out this whole partner business.”

“Aren't we all?”  James muttered, meaning more being with Lily than his two best friends being together, but still earning himself a swat to the back of the head.

* * *

 

In the end it was only Peter who was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas.  Sirius and James were heading back as part of the big surprise, Lily was going back for Christmas with her parents, with an invite to Godric's Hollow on Boxing Day (or anytime if Petunia and Vernon showed up and gave her a hard time), and Remus heading back to his parents in Wales.  Peter came down to Hogsmeade to wave the rest of them off on the train, and stood on the platform, wrapped up in his fur cloak.

“I'll see you lot soon yeah?”  Peter said cheerily.

James glared at him, “We'll see you at the start of the Spring term, yes.”

“Bu—”

“Just a couple of weeks, not long.”  James said forcefully.

“Right, yeah.  Well I'll see you all then.”  Peter berated himself for nearly letting it, slip, never remembering.  Always being useless.  It didn't matter that he'd see them before then, it was a secret.  He was supposed to keep secrets, not let them slip.

James clapped him on the back cheerily, and Lily hugged him, making him blush and glance around to see if Florence was looking, but she'd already gone.  After a bit of prompting by James, Remus and Sirius came over to say their goodbyes as well, having gotten distracted in their own conversation.  The four students got onto the train, and took their seats in the prefects carriage, taking advantage of the fact that two of them were Heads, one a prefect, and the other cocky enough to get away with it.

As the train began to pull away they waved their goodbyes at Peter, who started trudging back to the castle, the carriages having returned already.  He kicked at the stones on the ground, grumpy at being left alone yet again.  He daren't admit to his mother that his friends had all changed their plans and deserted him at Hogwarts without a second thought, so Hogwarts alone it was.

* * *

 

It was half past three in the morning, and Remus was struggling to keep himself awake.  He shook himself out of bed, cancelling the charm he'd cast to rouse himself if he'd managed to fall asleep for a while, before heading down to the kitchen.  He felt awful, all tense and jittery, the moon was so close to being full, it was starting to tug on the wolf laying hidden beneath his skin, teasing, tempting it to come out to the surface.

He tried to forget that in less than seven hours time every bone in his body would be cracking and shifting, while everyone else was happily tucking into their turkey and playing games.  He just wanted to forget that today was both Christmas and the full moon.

Remus tried not to remember that Sirius wasn't there, and he said that he would be.  He'd even said that he wanted to stay up and go to the plygain service with him, but he wasn't there.  It was a shame, Remus thought he would enjoy the old tradition, even if it wouldn't make the slightest bit of sense to him as both a wizard and an Englishman.

He tried not to get too upset, after all he had told them that they shouldn't think about him, and that they should just enjoy Christmas, that his family was enough.  He hoped that James and Sirius were having a good Christmas together at the Potter's house, it would be good for Sirius to spend a Christmas with a family too.

As he was splashing his face with the cold tap in the kitchen in an attempt to stay awake and slightly more refreshed, his father came down, shrugging into his jacket.  Under his left arm was the family hymn book, and in his right hand a candle.  Remus dried his own face, and greeted his father, before picking up his own candle and coat.  Together, with candles and bleary eyes, the three Lupin's made their way to the parish church through the cold and the frost, their breath clouding the way before them.

They slipped into the back of the church, careful not to draw attention to themselves, and placed their changes carefully around the edge of the church along with the others.  The small church looked eerie and somehow more beautiful than usual with the lining of candles, but it was also louder than usual.  The festive spirit had brought the people to life and the church full of cheer.  It made Remus wish he frequented the place on other occasions, but he couldn't say that he had any interest in God or religion, just the traditions of the people who had lived and worked on the land around him.

Through the throngs of people the first party of three people stepped forwards and the room began to quiet.  One by one they began to sing, their voices ringing through the air loud and strong.  There was no organ, no piano, no accompaniment, but it didn't matter.  It was the songs of the people, sung by the people, in the people's tongue.  And it gave Remus chills and warmed his heart all at the same time.  He knew enough welsh to understand the carol, and it was one of his favourites, describing everything from the worshipping of the wise men, to the fleeing to Egypt and the evil King Herod.

Once the last note ended, the singers left the gallery, and were replaced by the Rector, who gave a short Morning Service, a few prayers and a reading, before leaving and being replaced by party after party, all ages and sizes, singing song after song, without a word being spoken in between.  Once all nine of the partys had sung they started again, in the same order, and never the same song sung twice.

Hours later, Lyall tapped on Remus's arm, nodding towards the front and waving the hymn book.  Without a chance to say no, he was pulled towards the front of the church to take a turn singing a carol.  It wasn't something which he had ever done, and Lyall hadn't either, never spending enough time in one place to get to know the community, never wanting to draw attention to themselves, but clearly something was different this time.  Lyall positioned himself next to Remus, one arm around his shoulders, and the other holding the battered book.

Remus stared blankly at the words that seemed to have too many consonants and not enough vowels, trying to remember what they meant and how the tune was supposed to go.  The tips of his ears burned as he realised everyone was staring at him, wondering who this boy and his father was, and where they'd come from.  His entire body ached, and singing was far from what he wanted to be doing right now, he wanted to be curled up in bed with a sweet tea and a black mongrel across his feet.

Then his father started singing, and it all began to click.

The Carol Y Swper at the end of the service meant more that year than it ever had before, as the Lupin's reconciled a little bit more with the world, and no longer just hid at the back.

_Mae heddiw'n ddydd cymod,_

_A'r swper yn barod,_

_A'r bwrdd wedi ei ossod,_

_O brysiwn._

* * *

 

"Merry Christmas!  Merry Christmas!"  Charlus boomed as James and Sirius stumbled down the stairs, eyes still filled with sleep and in their pyjamas.

"G'mornin Dad."  James mumbled, "Where's the m'nce pies?"

Dorea swooped down on him, flapping her arms, expecting it.  "James Potter, you are _not_ having mince pies for breakfast, Christmas or no Christmas.  Come and have some toast, and then we'll open presents."

James grumped, but a small smile quirked at the corner of his mouth.  He wouldn't want it any other way.  It was almost as good as tradition to wind his parents up over breakfast—someone somewhere had told them it was the most important meal of the day, and it was something they'd never let him forget—but he'd get his own way in the end.  That was tradition too.  Obediently, he headed into the dining room and sat down at the kitchen table, followed by Sirius, who was slightly bewildered, an outsider to the eccentricities of a Potter Christmas.

The toast was piled on the table, big stacks of it, and Sirius helped himself, smearing jam and butter over the crisp golden triangles, but when he turned around to pass the jam to James there was nothing there except thin air.

"Prongs?"  He questioned, looking around him.  He'd only been focussed on the toast for a moment.  When he got no reply he shrugged and shoved the toast into his mouth, deciding that if he didn't know what to do with himself today eating was probably a good plan.  There was a long night ahead of him after all.

"James?"  Dorea asked, puzzled at her son's sudden disappearance.  "Charlus, watch the presents, your son's gone and used that sodding cloak again!"

All of them rushed into the sitting room where the a stocking emblazoned with the letter 'J' was apparently floating about a foot off the chair nearest to the roaring fire.  Charlus plucked at the air, and the bed headed boy was revealed, a smug grin on his face as he clutched tightly onto the stocking.  Around his mouth where crumbs that looked suspiciously like they'd originated from a mince pie.

His mother just sighed, and settled into her own chair, summoning a teapot and pair of cups from the kitchen, and poured her and her husband a cup of tea.  Sirius floated awkwardly, not knowing whether to go back to the toast safely out of the way in the kitchen, start opening his stocking too, or just stand there.  He crouched in front of the fire, soaking the warmth up for lack of anything else to do.

James finally caught on to his new brother's nerves and gave him a prod with his toe.  "Go on then, open them.  We'll do it together."

The Black boy grinned and reached for his stocking.  He was scared for all of the things that could go wrong in the night, but his heart was singing with the feeling of being accepted into a family enough to have his own stocking—in **red** no less—and presents to fill it with.

* * *

 

 

An involuntary groan escaped from him as a tsunami of nausea hit him as he got out of bed for a second time that day.  They'd gotten back from the plygain service at just gone six o'clock in the morning, and although he was still buzzing, he'd been drained, and his mother had pushed him upstairs for a nap.

“Remus!  You're up.  I was just saying that we should think about waking you.”  His mother gushed enthusiastically, turning from the worktop to peck his head gently and enfolded him carefully in her floury arms.  “ _Nadolig llawen_.  You did well at the plygain.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.  Thanks."  Remus smiled, hugging her back.  Much to his regret his accent embarrassed him too much to reply in Welsh, having lost most of it living in the Scottish highlands for nine months of the year, with people from all over the country.  “Where's Dad?  I want to give you your presents together...”

Hope Lupin's face dropped slightly, but she made a good attempt at keeping in the festive spirit.  She remembered where her husband was and why.  As much as she loved her son it tore her heart to shreds to see the pain and suffering that he went through, and the marks that it left on his skin.  When he was born he'd been happy and healthy and bubbly, and now he was old before his time, skin marred with more scars than she knew.  Her heart ripped in two every time she heard his screams as his body was taken over by that animal that was always lurking inside of him, waiting for the call of the moon.  All that pained her, but that there was nothing she could do to alleviate his suffering that hurt her most of all. What sort of mother let her son suffer like that for the rest of his life?

“He's just down in the cellar, checking the spells.”  She turned back to her cooking, a lump forming in her throat, and started vigorously whisking the Yorkshire Pudding batter.  “We were going to eat early so you can join us...”

She was babbling in that way particular to mothers, and Remus was forced to smile, seeing that it meant a lot to her, and couldn't bring himself to tell her how sick he was feeling.  “Mum, don't worry please.”  He laid a hand on her shoulder.

“I just thought it would be nice to eat together.   It's Christmas.”

“It will be, it will be.” Remus said quickly, calming her.  “I'm just going to see if Dad needs a hand, then we can all be together.”

With a lump in his throat, Remus made his way through the cottage to the trapdoor of the cellar, descending slowly into the gloom beneath the floor.  He pulled his wand from his pocket, casting a _lumos_ to help light the room as he struggled to see by the light of the few candles dotted around the outside of the room.  Even with the extra light he couldn't spot his father anywhere, until he heard a faint noise coming from one of the corners, and turned to see a hunched shape on the floor.

His voice came out softer and croakier than he had meant it to.  “Dad?”

The figure quickly tried to gather itself and got to his feet, a hand rising to wipe across his face with a sniff.  “Remus, I wasn't expecting you down here.”  His voice was forcibly level, but there was something off, and no matter how hard he tried, Remus knew all too well that his father had been crying, and he didn't need to be near the top of the year to have a darned good idea of why.

He knew that his father cried because of him.

In the gloom it was possible to tell if he was crying at that moment, but his voice betrayed that he had been crying at some point, and recently.  His words of “I'm fine, son,” were nothing more than an empty reassurance, and they both knew it.  They both knew that he wasn't fine, that it wasn't fine, and nothing was fine, but they'd get through, like they always did.

Awkward, and not knowing at all if it was the right thing to do, Remus stepped towards his father, lowering his wand, and pulled him into a tight hug.  They held each other tight in the darkness, the older man's body shaking slightly in sobs.  Neither spoke, consumed in their own thoughts, they couldn't help but blame themselves for the way that the other was feeling.

Remus knew that his father hated himself for the pain that his actions had caused his son to endure each month.  Just because his father had never said a word of it aloud in front of him didn't stop him from knowing that, he saw it in his eyes when it looked at him, the way that unlike everyone else his disgust was turned inwards whenever he was reminded of the lycanthropy.  Just because his father never said a word didn't mean that it didn't show in the feverish researching and faint hope every time a new possibility arose that might help to undo the mistakes he had made those fourteen years ago.  Just because his father never said a word didn't mean it was plain as day in the way he took himself off without fail to the local every full moon because he couldn't bear to sit with Hope and listen to his son's screams as he tore at his own flesh.

It pained Remus more than any physical wound to know the hurt that he put his father through, and the toll it took on his parents' marriage.  He wondered if there would ever be anything that would strip that pain away, even though the rational part—the part that spoke in Lily's soft voice—knew that it wasn't his fault, and there was nothing he could do about the state of his blood.  It didn't stop him wishing though.  Sometimes he contemplated telling his father about the three friends who helped to keep him safe, but it was more than worry that they'd be arrested for being unregistered; Remus suspected it might be too much for his father to bear if he thought that someone else had done a better job of protecting his son from his mistake than he had.

So instead of telling Lyall about the friends that kept his chin up when he'd had enough, the stag, dog, and rat that kept the wolf distracted, and the way that it was all a little more bearable by them by his side, he stepped back and told him about the dinner that was cooking upstairs.

“That'll be good won't it, butt?”  A dead tone was still in his voice, but he was trying.

Remus forced a smile, “Yeah, it will be.  Why don't you go up and help Mam start dishing up, I'll just finish down here.”

As his father headed up the ladder into the kitchen, his slippers padding quietly on the slab floor, Remus had to fight the urge to curl up as Lyall had been minutes before.  The nausea was still rising, and his body was starting to get chills and sweats like the beginnings of the 'flu.  He knew it couldn't be long until the moon now, and there was still the dinner to get through, and then he'd be trapped in this hole for another sixteen hours or so.  He swallowed the vomit that threatened to make an escape, and raised his wand, going over the protective wards, the ache of missing Sirius greater than ever in his heart.  What he wouldn't give to have him here right now.

* * *

The Christmas dinner at the Lupin household was subdued and quiet.  None of them wanted to talk about the approaching full moon, and Remus barely bared to open his mouth to eat, let alone to make small talk, his stomach churning worse than ever with the rich smells, and his head was splitting with the headache.  It was the time of the day where he just wanted the full moon to hurry up and rise, to get it all over with.  His eyes prickled as the guilt of not eating his share of the dinner began to overwhelm his heightened emotions; they weren't well off, they barely scraped by, and a roast dinner with all the trimmings was an expense that they didn't need.  They definitely didn't need it to go to waste.  With a hand that was beginning to tremble, he speared a Brussel sprout, but couldn't bring himself to bring it to his mouth, and the fork fell back down on the plate with a clatter.

Head hanging in shame, he got up from the table, excusing himself to the sitting room, where he sunk into a patchy armchair, squeezing his eyes shut, shielding himself from the world.  It was always the same, the emotions were always too ragged and too animalistic.  Company was something he normally avoided like the dragonpox.  A while later the front door slammed, and he knew it was his father going out for the night.  The kind human part of his mind that was still thinking rationally knew that now was the time to go to his mother and tell her it would all be okay, regardless of the fact that it never was, but his limbs and emotions wouldn't allow him.

A while later she came to him.  In her arms was a suspiciously book shaped package, wrapped in gold and red paper.  She sat laid it down on the arm of the chair.  He looked up in bewilderment, they'd already given each other their presents just before dinner started.

"This arrived this morning by owl.  I completely forgot about it until now."  She said softly.  "I'll leave it for you to open, I know you like a bit of peace and quiet."

"Thanks Mam."  Remus said softly, turning slowly to pick it up, careful not to jar his head.  He didn't notice that Hope stopped briefly at the door in time to notice the small smile that appeared on his thin lips as he recognised the spiky writing on the front.

Unwrapping the parcel, the book fell out, and he recognised it immediately.  A brand new copy of one of his most battered books.  The first book that he read to Sirius.  Damn that man, he thought he'd hated it.  With a snort and a larger smile as a tear leaked from his eye he had another thought.  Damn that man and his soppy gift ideas, he knows me too well.

As he lifted the book, he noticed a thick envelope slotted into the cover.  Intrigued, he picked it out, and with the book carefully balanced on his bony knee, sliced it open with a long finger.  Something leather and thin fell into his lap as he drew out the parchment, but he turned his attention to the words first.

_"Dear Remus,_

_"I know it will probably break tonight anyway, but could you wear it anyway?  Please?  For me? Perhaps it'll make it better.  It's all I can do right now._

_"I'm so sorry I can't be with you right this moment.  I promised that I'd be there, but I let you down._

_"I'll see you as soon as I possibly can.  I really do mean that.  It won't be long.  Somehow or another I'll make it up to you._

_"I hope it all goes smoothly too.  Or as smoothly as possible._

_"Prongs says hello as well._

_"Yours (with plenty of slobber)_

_"Padfoot_

_"P.S. Please forgive me."_

So Sirius hadn't forgotten him, Sirius did want to be there, if not in body then in spirit.  He hadn't just seen his protests  that it was Christmas as a get-out clause.  Sirius was genuinely sorry for not being with him, and he felt worse for thinking that perhaps he didn't care.  Pretending that he wasn't an emotional wreck in a happy way, he picked the piece of leather from his lap and tied it securely around his wrist, regretting the fact that it would be broken and lost before nightfall, but glad that he had a bit of Sirius with him after all.

* * *

“I'm really sorry Dory, I'm going to have to head out for a bit.”  Sirius said, genuinely feeling mortified at having to leave after all the effort Dorea Potter had put into the dinner he was now abandoning.

“Whatever's the matter?”  She asked, her face wrinkling into concern for her adopted son.

“I just need to have to see someone.  I think it's important.”  He swallowed, wondering how to stop her worrying.  “I don't know when I'll be back.”

The concern vanished, and a knowing eyebrow raised.  “It's that lad of yours isn't it?”  She chuckled as the blush answered.  “Go on, just make sure you're back in time for cold meat sandwiches tomorrow.  Here, take him a couple of mince pies, give you energy.”

With a pop, James apparated into the kitchen looking mortified.  “ _Mum_!  Stop it!”

His mother just chuckled, pushing the mince pies into Sirius's hands as he stood there utterly embarrassed and awkward.  The idea of his surrogate mother being this warm and open, let alone accepting of his gayness, was something which still stunned him daily.  Back in the Black household relationships with another man would have been allowed, but only behind closed doors, as a little bit on the side, and as long as you had a pretty pureblood woman on your arm for the sake of keeping up appearances.  It would never have been spoken about, never encouraged, never would he have been given homebaked mince pies to share.

“T-t-thank you Mrs Potter.”  Sirius stuttered, and then cursed himself for slipping back into his own politeness as he always did when he was out of depth in family situations.  “Sorry, um, cheers Dory.  He'll appreciate them.”

Hurrying quickly out of the door, he turned, expecting to find James close behind him, but instead the corridor was empty.  He cursed, James really had no sense of time and when it really wasn't the time to stop and chat.  This definitely wasn't the time for his farting around, he was running late as it was, Remus would be at the Forbidden Forest in less than fifteen minutes.

"Prongs!"  yelled Sirius, his heart starting to pump rapidly as the adrenaline of his grand plan began to set in.  "Hur—"

Before he could finish his word the messy black hair appeared around the door frame.  "It should just be you two,"  He whispered, "It'd be great to be there, but I think it should just be you two this time, it's your Christmas."

With a smile, Sirius nodded.  "Thanks.  Have  a good evening."

Clutching tight onto the brown paper bag of mince pies, Sirius turned on the spot, thinking with all his might of the tall iron gates at the entrance of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

At four o'clock Remus dragged himself up from the armchair, where he'd been sat looking at the book Sirius had sent him.  Not reading, his head hurt too much for reading, but admiring the bindings, running fingers over familiar words, the calligraphic initial capitals, the smell tickling at his nose and neurones...  It was an effort to tear himself away, especially when the moon rise wasn't supposed to be for another forty minutes, but the book would be there for the morning, and it was always best to be safe than sorry.

Finding his mother in the kitchen he gave her a brief hug, carefully avoiding looking at his almost full plate abandoned on the side.  Retreating quickly, the teenage werewolf tried to pass transmit reassurance in a smile and softly spoken words.  "I'm going to go down there now."

"Take care little one, I'll be thinking of you."

He just nodded, and headed dutifully down to the trapdoor, and the ladder, lit the lanterns, and sealed the trapdoor with a _colloportus_.  Satisfied as much as he could be, he carefully stowed his wand in the nook that was just the right length and depth to keep it safe high above his head, and then he took his clothes off, carefully folding them, and placing them in the chest slightly to his right, making sure his boxers were at the top.  The memory of a time he hadn't remembered that vital fact flooded his mind as he sat on the floor, the embarrassment of not being able to find them at the bottom in his weakened state, and his mother finding him stark naked.  The lycanthropy had even managed to strip his modesty, and of course the Marauder's had found that tidbit hilar—

"FU—!"

There was a jerk in Remus's stomach, turkey that could no longer be contained, the rush of wind, blurring lights and dark, and then there was cold, grass, dry heaving, a splattering of vomit, the rustling of wind through trees.  And something running, the pounding of an animal galloping.  Instinct kicked in, it hadn't been long until moon rise, and Merlin knows where he was now.  He scrambled to his feet, spinning wildly around, trying to find somewhere to trap himself before it was too late...

...and then there was a cool hand on his forehead, a hand that smelt like canine, sulphur, and cigarette smoke, stopping him, calming him, and a voice calling his nickname.  A cold vial was being pushed into his hand, and automatically he took it.

"Moony, Moony, it's me.  It's me, it's me."  The voice was familiar, the voice was Sirius's.

Remus turned to look at him, to see if his ears were really telling the truth, but ended up throwing up again.  The hand was on his fringe now, making sure it didn't get splattered, and the voice was urging him to drink up, the potion might help, it was an antiemetic, Lily had made it for him.

"Lily?"  Remus whispered, voice hoarse from the retching, but still scared.  "She's not here is she?"

"Getting all shy in your birthday suit are we?"  Sirius chuckled, with the bark that was so fitting, and then responded lovingly, "No Moony, don't worry.  It's just me.  Now drink up."

Obediently the vial was drained, and Remus suddenly felt a little better.  The full moon nausea was still there, but the portkey-sickness had cleared up at least.  Hogwarts must have gone through bucketloads before they started using the Hogwarts Express.  At last he felt well enough to properly look at Sirius, and was embraced and enfolded in his arms.  His body no longer seemed to ache quite so hard either, and he all but forgot the only thing he was wearing was the remains of his dinner.

It was too soon that he was forced to pull away, and rasp out urgently, "Change, change."

In an instant Sirius was gone, and Padfoot the dog was in his place, sitting on his haunches and whining as Remus cried out in pain, and then howled in agony. Bones cracked, muscles tore, flesh stretched, and hundreds of thousands of hairs pierced skin.  The sounds tore through the night, and tore through Sirius's heart.  It ripped and ached and he wanted to gather his love in his arms, press him tight to his chest and stop it hurting.  But Remus wasn't there.  Before him was a werewolf, and a hungry one at that.

So of course, Sirius did the only thing that could be expected, and he pounced on him, knocking him to the ground, and then getting back up to his four paws, nipping at the wolves hackles, barking and howling, teasing the beast into the forest.  The wolf snapped and yipped in retaliation, picking up branches and running at the dog, then turning about on a sickle and running in the opposite direction, leaving Padfoot to chase after in a blur of blackness.

The moon was a good moon, not once did the wolf turn vicious.  Not once did it get the scent of human and go chasing after it.  Sirius was glad, but by the morning he was starting to get tired, and by the looks of it, so was Remus.  Carefully, he guided him back in the direction of the Whomping Willow, and ducked between the branches to open the secret passageway.  By the time the moon settled beneath the horizon both dog and wolf were safely inside the Shrieking shack.

* * *

Peter stood at the top of the astronomy tower, listening to the howls and barks drifting through the air.  He knew where they were coming from, and knew that he wasn't wanted there anymore.  He wasn't good enough to look after Remus, the rat wasn't powerful enough, he wasn't special enough.  He was just a tag-a-long, and now they'd finally said it, they'd finally asked him not to join them.   It had taken six whole years, but they'd finally got sick of humouring him.

Screwed up in a ball in his hand was the letter that James had sent him, telling him that the plan had changed, and he'd decided that it was would be best if they left Remus and Sirius to it for the night, and he was staying at his parents for Christmas.  He had said that Peter was welcome to visit, and apologised, but it wasn't enough.  Peter gave them everything, but he was never quite good enough, and they were never quite good enough in return.  They were scared now, not the fearless jokers that he'd met and doted on.

There was rumour that the Dark Lord was looking for people, and not just those from a Slytherin background.  They didn't seem to just drop people when they were sick of them, they respected each other, they had power.  James had been cool enough, Sirius made him laugh and Remus had been helpful enough, but now they cared about other things, and Peter was wasn't one of them.  He had Florence, but she didn't really like him, just his association with the three most popular kids in the seventh year.  James had Lily, Sirius had... Remus. 

He scowled.  The Dark Lord wouldn't like that.  Perhaps he shouldn't either.

The stout boy transformed into his rodent form and scurried back through the castle, making a beeline for the dungeons, wondering if he could remember where the Slytherin common room was hidden, ready to find out more about this Dark Lord and his special followers.

* * *

As Remus slept, Sirius surveyed the room they were in.  For all their grand plans when they'd first discovered it they'd never done much with the place.  There was still the tatty four poster bed that had seen better days, even if it was clean enough not to cause Remus infections, the chest of drawers that were crumbling under their own weight from years of woodworm infestation, and the walls with more paper dangling off them than stuck on.  The place was a tip, and they really should have sorted it properly.

Which was where Lily came in.  His wand gripped in a sweaty palm, Sirius began to wave it slowly around the room, repeating the charm that she'd slipped him on the piece of paper that had come along with the bracelet and antiemetic.  Obediently the dust began to rise in clouds and pile itself neatly in the corner, and he became entranced watching it, and the foreign sounds of the words he murmured softly.

" _Dhula hatane_. _Dhula hatane_."

Once all the dust had collected in one corner he raised his wand again, and vanished it with the more familiar, " _Evanesco_."  He stood back to admire his handiwork.  The cleaning spell had worked better than he thought he would, Lily was right, the South Asian witches did know a thing or two more than the European variety when it came to housework.  As a finishing touch he summoned some holly, and arranged it around the room, hanging off anything that it could hang form, and then a sprig of mistletoe to hang from the top of the bed.

Then he remembered the mince pies, and summoned those too from where he'd ditched them outside the gates in his rush to get to Remus in time the night before.  He chuckled at the thought of the brown paper bag flying through Hogsmeade, and grabbed them.  He peered inside to check they weren't damp from being outside all night, and his stomach growled hungrily, deeming them fit for consumption.  He decided he'd better test them properly anyway, and took one, leaving the rest on the bedside table.

Happy with the room at last, Sirius crawled into bed next to Remus, brushing the hair back from his forehead.  He looked pale and exhausted, but didn't seem too badly hurt.  Carefully he settled himself down, and was just about to drift off himself when Remus's eyes fluttered open.  There was the usual amount of disorientation, and then they cheered as he recognised Sirius.

Sirius just smiled, and pressed a kiss to his brow.  "Merry Christmas."

For a moment Remus looked startled, and then realised.

"Thank you."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Songs used here were:  
> Last Night - Mark Chadwick (better known as part of the Levellers)  
> Pink Moon - Nick Drake  
> Carol Y Swper - Trad. Welsh (I guess)
> 
> Butt – Welsh slang for friend/mate. Both Lyall and Hope are Welsh, but I don't know enough welsh people to put more of an accent to them, all the welsh folk I know do say 'butt' frequently, so it just slipped in. In the end I ended up looking up Welsh traditions and stumbled across the idea of plygain, I found [this website](http://allaboutwales.com/welsh-christmas-carols-the-plygain-tradition-2) very useful in learning about it: I chose for Hope not to sing, although I originally thought it would be nice, I just think it seems a bit too "modern" for a wizarding family and I'm not sure how recently women started to become accepted in plygain partys.  
> There could have been more Peter in this I know, but I think by this point he may have started getting sucked in by another type of role model entirely. I'd rather omit him than write him poorly.  
> And well, we're just going to have to pretend that Dorea didn't die in 1977 for this, or that she died in the week between Christmas and New Years, because I wrote it all before I realised.


End file.
